Enigma
by catuethecashew
Summary: A continuing of the meeting between the hobo ghost and hero boy inside the train. The ghost still likes to play games, while the boy just wants answers. All in all the meeting is mysterious. SLASH - not anything explicit.


A/N - my first story. Please, you rabid wolves, have some mercy on a n00b.

If you don't like slash, don't read! This isn't anything graphic, mind you, it's really tame, I swear!

I do not own The Polar Express, as it belongs to Chris Van Allsburg; the movie belongs to him and Warner Bros. or something. I dunno.

If I owned it well...I'd have the know-it-all kid fall off the train, and the hobo ghost dude explain his life's story. Srsly - WHO IS HE?

* * *

"Lookie what we have here…" An interested tone was in the man's voice – the man who I met upon the train. He was the strange hobo who seemed to disappear, only for his soft cackling to remain, and then to suddenly reappear in the oddest of places. He was a real enigma.

"Someone left us a little present." He gestured above him and I looked, blinking in the darkness of the unlit train car, full to the brim with old, broken toys. I was confused – what could possibly be considered a present in _this _place?

I squinted above the man and a strange feeling came about inside of me – he was pointing at mistletoe.

It looked old and dry, as if it had been hung there for quite some time – but nonetheless, it had retained its appearance, and would thus be suitable for that familiar ritual to occur underneath it: a kiss. My eyes widened as I realized we were both standing under it. I started to shake, more from fear than the cold outside, and the man placed a soothing hand on my shoulder.

"Don't be frightened boy, it'll be chaste. I promise."

I wanted to back away from him – no, run away from him – but the man quickly grabbed my hands. His were cold, almost lifeless, and were the palest white I had ever seen.

"N-no!" I stammered weakly.

"Oh, come on. We don't want to break a _Christmas tradition_, now do we?" His voice was mocking, just like when he played with the Scrooge puppet. He was doing this as a joke – and it hurt.

Even if I struggled to believe in Santa Claus and all the other wonders of Christmas, it still pained me. It felt as if he thought _I_ was a joke. Or that he was trying to goad me into following him to the dark side.

I didn't want to go, because a small part of me hoped that maybe I was wrong – that maybe Santa really was real, and that this train, this _adventure_ wasn't just a dream.

But then the man proceeded to place his right hand upon my cheek. It moved down, caressing my face until it came to rest under my chin, holding it up.

My heart rate sped up as he forced me to look up at him.

The moon – full and bright – was behind the man and the light seemed to go through him, creating a type of ethereal glow around his body. A part of me thought that he was beautiful, in this phantom-like state.

Slowly, he moved his head towards mine; my breath hitched and I closed my eyes tightly. Then I felt it: the lightest of touches on my lips from his; a soft, feathery feeling. It was cold and blistering at the same time and I felt my knees threaten to buckle. He grabbed my waist and I was held to him, to his cold chest, and I shivered as the light kiss continued.

It seemed to last an eternity. Then the soft feeling ended as he moved his face away. He smiled, a real, genuine smile, as I stood there, still held close to him, with a dazed look in my eyes. The kiss wasn't even intense, yet it left me breathless.

I almost wanted to the new and strange sensation to continue. Almost.

His scratchy voice awoke me from my daze. "You should hurry before the conductor notices that you're gone." He was still smiling.

I slowly nodded as I continued to look up at him, still not quite all there.

_Who is he?_

I desperately wanted to know.

I wanted to know everything about him – why he despised Christmas, why he was on this train, why –

But the man let go of me before I could even feel comfortable enough to ask. Somehow, my legs returned to normal and I turned away from him, feeling his eyes on my back. I managed to take a few steps away before I looked back to him.

He was gone, and so was the light from the moon. The car was dark again, and I was alone.

_What is he?_

I may never be able to ask.

I raised a tentative hand to my lips – they were cold now. I was afraid to find that there was nothing more that I wanted.

The man was truly an enigma.

END

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A/N

Well, I'm a bit terrified. (Please don't kill me!) I'm not all that great with constructive criticism, mind you, but it's a part of life, and I need to learn to accept it and follow it.

I know this ship is kinda weird. But whatever - it's my ship. I will sail it alone if need be.

Please don't flame if you think I'm twisted and sick - coz I actually am and I don't need you to remind me. I warned you at the top soooo...yeah. It's your fault if you read this disturbing work.

*goes to hide in a corner*


End file.
